


Ugly Sweaters and Dean's Samulet

by blurryfaceimagines



Series: Wincest Love Week ~ 4 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angsty Sam, Bobby lookalike, Charlie Angst, Christmas Tree Decorating, Hurt!Sam, M/M, Samulet, dean wearing ugly sweaters, hurt!Dean, jodie and mary are mentioned, upset!sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:12:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8650852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blurryfaceimagines/pseuds/blurryfaceimagines
Summary: Thursday's Prompts:  One of the brothers being prematurely festive (ugly Christmas sweaters? Christmas songs?) & SamuletSam doesn't see the point in celebrating Christmas and he's getting sick of Dean's sudden interest in the hideous sweaters and putting up that damn tree.





	

“The difference, Sam,” Dean paused as he struggled to make sure the current decoration won’t fall off or mess with the others before continuing. “Is that this year, we have a home.” He felt kind of exasperated at Sam’s indifference but he tried not to show it. He sighed. “It’s okay to celebrate every now and then, Sammy,” he added softly.

  
Sam stood in the doorway to the bunker library, leaning against the doorway and looking on unimpressed as Dean continued to struggle for a bit more before finally managing to put up the pie shaped decor up successfully.  
"Well, it's not like us celebrating will do us any good. I only see a downside- wasting money on decorations."

  
That caused Dean's head to whip up and he quickly turned to face his brother from where he'd been sifting through the box for some other decorations to add to their tree. The words had felt like a punch coming from Sam.  
"You okay, Sammy?"

  
If Sam hadn't been so tired from the lack of sleep, he would have snarked at Dean to start a fight. He knew very well that Dean wouldn't have taken the bait, and would have mellowed out and even let him lash out if he wanted.

  
Seeing no point to it, Sam stuck to rolling his eyes and huffing an annoyed breath. Where this sudden anger was coming from he had no idea. Whether it was from the ugly sweaters Dean had been sporting since a week already, or his sudden desire to get a tree and decorate it and tiny Christmas-y changes he'd made in the kitchen, Sam wasn't sure.

  
What was bothering him more was that he was annoyed with Dean's sudden holiday spirit at all. And he was well aware he'd be stuck feeling guilty later for any hurtful things he said to Dean.  
"I'm great," he grumbled, a tad more harsh than he'd intended, and he felt anger at himself the way Dean flinched at his words. This was getting out of hand.

  
The way Dean pursed his lips before licking them told him that he was about to further question him; not hostile at all, but demanding in all the caring ways. Which would only serve to raise Sam's temper. The whole thing was strange now anyway- he hadn't felt this angry towards Dean for a while now. Wasn't that hotblooded anymore.

  
"Look, I'mma just go out and get some breakfast."

  
That got him a head-tilt from Dean and his are-you-for-real face, raised eyebrows and all. And Sam understood his bewilderment. And the rightful annoyance. _If you're gettin' sick of the Christmas shit goin' on here, it's a stupid idea to out where it's ten times worse._

  
Sam just pursed his lips and tried not to glare at Dean.  
"Don't worry, Dean! I'm pretty sure I won't go hulk seeing the decorations in a diner or the streets."

  
He didn't wait for Dean's reply and quickly left to freshen up and change. The sooner he got out of the bunker, the sooner he'd feel like himself again.

  
It was only as he was midway through his late breakfast that he realized why the bunker was annoying him and feeling anything but homelike again; the answer having come in the form of a loud table surrounded by two small families and what appeared to be the mother of the siblings who the families belonged to.

  
Instead of feeling better that he knew what was going on with him, he felt worse. For having been an ass to Dean the past few days. Was it all because of Mary?

  
He realized it was hypocritical of him- he had been the one telling Dean he needed to let her go, to have some space. And now, because he couldn't help but feel the hurt that came with the unbidden thought that his mother had rejected him, after he'd finally got to call someone that. He felt ashamed with himself. For feeling that way. For having treated Dean like crap.

  
Suddenly not feeling hungry anymore, Sam put a tip under his plate and quickly left, having already paid for his meal.

  
He didn't head home just yet. He wasn't ready to face Dean just yet- it didn't matter that Dean wouldn't be upset or even hint at having been hurt.

  
His heart gave a painful lurch as he spotted a Harry Potter book displayed artfully in the window of a book store, instantly reminded of Charlie. Another person they'd lost. Another person that could have been with them this Thanksgiving. In the end, was this all they'd have? Was each other all they'd be left with?

  
Wandering aimlessly, he came to a park. There were about as many little families littered about so it wasn't eerily quiet, but the place was spacious enough for them to be a distance from each other. False comfort of apparent privacy.

  
Sam still felt restless, and sitting on a bench and tapping his legs wasn't helping. He caught sight of an old man wearing a ball cap playing catch with who Sam assumed was his grand kid. The resemblance was so striking he felt the breath knocked out of him at the sight.

  
Not sure he'd be able to keep calm anymore, he lurched to his feet, not taking into account the few heads that turned at his sudden movement, and rushed out.

  
Home. He needed to get to Dean, now.

  
He didn't register the door to the bunker clanging shut behind him as he rushed down the steps.

  
Dean wasn't in the library anymore, but their tree was looking spectacularly done. As spectacular a tree as they'd ever had in their lives, anyway.

  
Panting lightly from having run all the way back to the bunker, Sam turned to head down the hallways to find Dean but stopped short on seeing him appear in the doorway, clothes rumbled up as if he'd been laying down.

  
"Dean, I'm so-," he paused. Not because Dean had launched himself at him, arms wide open. No. He was still stood there, half in and half still in the hallway behind him, like he was unsure about coming in.

  
Over the white sweater with the ugly green and brown patterns that he was wearing today, there was a golden amulet hanging from the chord around his brother's neck, almost blending in with the dark brown of the sweater.

  
He could have been wearing it all day, and Sam probably hadn't noticed earlier.

  
Biting his lip, he took a step in Dean's direction, holding out his hand. "I-I'm so sorry, Dean," he said earnestly, hoping his brother could see it in his eyes.

  
He had more to say, now it was just ready to bubble out of his mouth, but Dean took his offer and took the few steps towards him, wrapping his arms tightly around Sam's shoulders in a hug when he reached him.

  
"It's okay, Sammy. 'S not your fault. She may not want 'nything to do with us anymore, but Jody will kick our asses if we don't go over for Thanksgivin' dinner."

  
How Dean had figured it out, Sam didn't know or ask. After all they'd been through, it didn't surprise him that his brother seemed to know him better than himself sometimes. He lowered his head so his chin was resting on Dean's shoulder and wrapped his arms tightly around Dean's waist.  
"Thanks, Dee."

  
The world would end. That was a given. Everyone they knew could leave them, and he would be okay as long as he always had Dean. He could make peace with that. Dean would always be there.


End file.
